Memories
by interrupting
Summary: It's Bokuto's final match with Fukurodani. Akaashi is determined to win, to give their ace a great final memory with the team. For BokuAka week day 5: last match.
Akaashi's eyes are glued to the ball resting just out of bounds. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Komi still laying on the floor, staring at the ball that missed his fists by mere centimeters. The opposing team's cheers of victory are simply a dull roar in the back of Akaashi's head as he acknowledges what happened.

 _We lost._

He remains frozen to the spot even as his teammates begin to line up, moving only when Sarukui accidentally brushes against him. His normally Cheshire grin has morphed into something more somber, and something tightens in Akaashi's chest.

 _We lost._

He doesn't remember walking there, his body moving on autopilot, but suddenly he's lined up next to his team, bowing and thanking the crowd for their support. He hears his teammates sniffling all around him, but he's strangely quiet. He can see Konoha's broad shoulders shake as he tries to hold back his tears on the way to the locker room, but he's strangely still.

Only when he's seated on a bench and rests his head in his hands does he realize that he's been crying the entire time.

Silent tears made their way down his face, leaving thin, damp tear stains in their wake. He doesn't question it, doesn't wonder when the tears even started, only scrubs at his cheeks as they continue their quiet descent.

"Akaashi," a gentle voice intones, and the setter's throat tightens uncomfortably. A familiar shock of grey and black hair comes into view and Akaashi locks his gaze there, refuses to let his eyes fall to the golden ones just below him.

"Hey, Akaashi," Bokuto tries again when he gets no response, "are you going to be okay? I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen you cry after a match."

"I-I'm fine." Akaashi curses the way his voice comes out, thick and heavy with emotion, and stands up abruptly. "I need to go wash my face. Please excuse me Bokuto-san."

By the time Bokuto turns to stare after Akaashi he's long gone, having rushed out of the locker room with an abnormal speed. His gaze lingers on the door as he wonders whether he should follow his setter or not.

"Go," Konoha says as he shoves the squatting Bokuto, smiling softly even though his eyes are red and still leaking. "Staring won't make him come back any sooner. I'll make sure the rest are okay."

"Thank you." Bokuto rights himself and smiles back at Konoha before leaving to find Akaashi.

Akaashi is standing in front of the mirrors in the bathroom, staring blankly at his tear-stained reflection. _We lost,_ he thinks again, and the tears start falling anew.

 _I can't believe we lost... This was the last match for the third years... for Washio-san, Sarukui-san, Komi-san, Konoha-san... for Bokuto-san..._ He screws his eyes shut as a sob wracks his body and makes him sag against the sink.

The door to the bathroom opens, but Akaashi doesn't even try to see who entered. Bokuto is grateful that Akaashi doesn't look up because he doesn't the concern and worry scrawled blatantly across his face would help the situation at all.

Slowly, he walks towards Akaashi and hesitantly lays a warm hand between his shoulder blades. He rubs small circles into the setter's back and slowly, Akaashi raises his head to gaze at him. Bokuto's movements falter and slow to a stop as Akaashi's eyes narrow.

"Why..." Akaashi's voice is soft but filled with confusion.

"Why?" Bokuto repeats, tilting his head to the side and blinking owlishly. Akaashi hates that even through his sadness he still finds Bokuto's mannerisms endearing.

"Why aren't you angry at me? This... was your last match and... and..." His voice catches and drops to a mumble. "And I don't want you to think of this when you look back on your memories of us..."

Bokuto doesn't hesitate this time as he wraps his arms around Akaashi's shoulders and draws him into his chest. "Do you really think that just because we lost our last match means that I'll forget everything else that we've been through?

"Do you think I'll forget about all the times that you've dragged me out of my dejected moods? Or the times you stayed late to toss to me, even if practice was rough that day? All of our _other_ victories? All the time you and Konoha spent trying to tutor me in history, and when we went for ice cream when I finally aced an exam?" Bokuto squeezes Akaashi's as he reminisces, and is relieved that the setter's chest has stopped heaving.

"These past two years have been amazing, Akaashi. I couldn't forget them if I tried, and this loss doesn't change _anything._ "

Akaashi pulls back slightly, hands fisting in the front of Bokuto's shirt, and stares. Bokuto's eyes are puffy from crying, and his cheeks are an angry red from where he's tried to scrub away the evidence, but there's still genuine warmth radiating from his expression. With a smile, he settles back into Bokuto's chest and wraps his arms around his waist.

"This is odd," Akaashi murmurs with a small chuckle. "Usually I'm the one comforting you, Bokuto-san."

Akaashi feels Bokuto's laugh more than he hears it. "There's nothing wrong with a little change every now and then, right?"

Arms tight around Bokuto's waist and cheek pressed into his chest, snugly wrapped in Bokuto's warm embrace Akaashi feels better than he has all day, even when they were in the heat of the moment on the court.

"Right."


End file.
